After several appointments with the therapist which led me to believe we were on our way to a break up, we had an appointment two weeks ago. It was time for the quarterly “treatment plan” update required by my insurance to keep the money coming in and we ran down my last set of goals. The first was basically to find a way to relax- I’d been feeling like every minute of every day the other shoe was about to drop, I would be fired, dumped, scorned any minute and was always on edge. I was crying every time something went not so perfectly, and it freaked me out. I’ve always been a pretty laid back girl for a Capricorn with type A tendencies. And then, I was a nervous wreck.
She asked how I’d been doing on that goal lately. And to be honest, I felt better. Immensely better. There had been some close brushes at work and at home, but even when I thought things wouldn’t work out, I was fairly quick to come up with a plan and had fall-back options, not great ones, but options. We considered that goal pretty much a done deal and decided that other than keeping an eye out for increasing nerves down the round, we could consider that checked off the list.
The other goal was to be supportive of the fiance’ and deal with my issues about his recent mental health problems. She laughed. In fact, she said I was the definition of supportive. And that she wasn’t so sure where we should go from there. And there it was, the possibility of the break up I wasn’t sure I was ready for. I want her to push me out of the nest when I’m ready- I’m definitely not one of those people who wants to be in therapy forever. I just wasn’t sure I had quite evened out to the point where I could run without training wheels.
So we talked about new goals. And in the course of the discussion, I realized there were new things I wanted to work on. Things to work on for me- like figuring out why I procrastinate at work to the point of near-termination and then work all weekend to catch up instead of just chugging along on a daily basis. Things like why I expect the laid-back fiance’ to fly off the handle like my ex, Officer Road Rage, whenever I do anything just for me. And then he doesn’t, and I think maybe it means he doesn’t care. (I know, four years with a rage-a-holic has done me no favors in my relationships since).
And after all that talking, she said she felt like we had found some legitimate good ideas. And that she wanted to see me the next week… break up over! I swear I didn’t manufacture new problems. I think I just felt ok enough to explain to her some of the other things that had been going on, without her judging me. After all, what did it matter what she thought of me if we were breaking up? And that’s just what the relationship needed all along.
Well, that and a great side comment about alcoholics who drink being like diabetics eating marshmallows. Wit. It gets them every time….